


Particles of Gold

by Tch0upi



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur and Merlin are a couple, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Immortal Merlin, M/M, Magic Reveal, Major character death - Freeform, Temporary Death, sad Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:13:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6063472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tch0upi/pseuds/Tch0upi





	Particles of Gold

 

_Just close your eyes_

_The sun is going down_

_You’ll be alright_

_No one can hurt you, now_

_Come morning light_

_You and I’ll be safe and sound_

 

I never meant for any of this to ever happen. I know I have been angry. I shouted at him, I was so mean and so angry, filled with hate. But now the anger, the hurt, the feeling of having been betrayed, all of this is nothing compared to the horror, the disbelief, the burning pain that plagues me as I enter the physician's room.

I can't believe what I see. Is this a nightmare?

Merlin is there. He's lying on the bed in the middle of the room, where hundred of my knights have laid injured in the past, where Gaius treated them, cared for his patients. Merlin has already laid there, and suddenly the past is so vivid, so close to me. I remember this time when the idiot had drunk the poison in my place. For the next few days he had been lying there, waiting for death to make him better again. Even back then, I couldn't stand his suffering.

But now he's not suffering. He’s peaceful. And it's almost worst to look at.

He's dead. His face is so pale, his eyes are closed, his lips slightly parted, white as a sheet. Not their natural pink color that always made me go mad from the desire to touch them with my own. His cheeks, so lovely when he blushes, are now colorless. His hair is so dark against the snowy shade of his skin. I feel my face twisting in pain, also going pale, my lips shaking and tears blinding me. I blink to make them go away but the reasoning pain in my throat is a sign that the tears are coming again, and again. That they might never even stop. How could they?

I take a few steps, looking away from him only to look incredulously at Guinevere, who's sitting next to him, her face wet with tears. The pain palpable in her eyes cannot begin to compete with mine. Gaius stands on the other side, his face dark, his eyes filled with emptiness. It's clutching at my heart. I'm afraid it's going to tear right out of my chest. I never knew it was possible to feel so much hurt.

Merlin looks beautiful. I could see it if, maybe, I wasn't so blinded by incomprehension, by denial, by the deadly agony that I feel in each one of my veins.

“Oh Arthur!” Guinevere whispers as I step closer again. “I’m so sorry… I should’ve looked after him better…”

I can't look at her.

That's when I notice all the cuts on Merlin. The lacerations and the wounds don't go unnoticed on his sickly pale skin, as does the remaining of dry blood. He’s been washed by shaky hands but the blood still sticks to his skin, to his clothes and I cannot blame Gaius — for it was surely him who cared for Merlin at the best of his abilities, while mourning him. It mustn’t have been easy. 

I want to ask what happened. What on _earth_ happened to him? The words are right there at the edge of my mouth. But nothing comes out. Nothing, but the throbbing of my unceasing heart, the signs of my own vitality, which makes me sick now that Merlin doesn't live and breathe anymore. I fall on my knees, my eyes never looking away from his sweet, soft unmoving and resting features. _He's gone_ , I think to myself. He's gone... he's gone... gone, gone, gone. GONE! Without me. He left me. I was meant to follow him everywhere, we were meant to be together, always… And now I'll never see his eyes again, I'll never hear his voice, never feel his arms wrapping around my neck as he holds onto me. Never feel the warmth of his body, never make love anymore. He's dead.

The tears invade my vision once again. They fall freely, I cannot stop them. Someone enters the room behind me but I don't care. I'm the king, I'm on my knees crying like a baby but I cannot, for the love of all that is sacred, bring myself to care, not even one bit.

Miserably, I make my way closer to the bed where Merlin lays. I reach my arms and, shaking slightly, I touch his wrist. It's shackled, and I shiver violently as I notice that his skin is colder than the iron chain, colder than the metal object.

The sobs make me shake uncontrollably. It was one thing to see Merlin lying there, dead. It was another to realize he'd been tortured, chained, and hurt. How much had he suffered?

“What happened?” I finally scream — or try to, my voice coming out horse and broken.

When no answer comes, I lift my head and look at Gaius. Then Guinevere, who cries silently at Merlin's dead bed, holding his hand as if she can’t bring herself to let go. Then I turn around to see the knights that had entered the room just recently. I watch Leon, Gwaine, Elyan and Percival. All of their dark, sad faces.

“I was gone for a few days!” I spit, anger making me lose myself in madness. I don’t sound like myself but again, I couldn’t care less. “For a few days! And neither of you could have protected him!”

“Sire...” Leon speak first.

“WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS HAPPENED TO HIM?”

“Arthur, please,” Gwen says softly, her voice still shaking. “Let them explain.”

In my fury, I had stood. Now I'm shaking on my own legs. The pain is too much to bear, and everything feels so surreal. Merlin dead. What sort of sick joke is that? The idiot cannot die. But how could I have never considered this possibility before? How come it's such a shock? The kingdom is a dangerous place, with bandits and enemies, and I was away from him. I couldn't protect him. _I_ left him. It was all _my_ fault.

“You know how Merlin's magic revelation all but tore us apart” Gwaine started. “It broke us in two halves. There were me, Elyan and Gwen who stood by Merlin's side and then Leon, Percival and some other knights who remained loyal to you, Sire, and angry at Merlin.”

I know all of that.

A week earlier, Merlin's magic had been revealed during one of our hunting trips. We were ambushed by bandits, and nearly killed but Merlin saved us. There was no time to think, he stepped ahead and defended us with all of his powers. I was angry at him. I shouted at him for lying to me all these years. I was blinded by hate and I was hurt. I felt betrayed. The journey home was long and filled with silence, and when we were back in Camelot I shouted at him again, still angry that he had lied to my face for many years. I couldn't believe how he could have. I couldn’t believe Merlin of all people was a sorcerer. After everything we've been through, he’d never told me. We were friends, lovers, we were _everything_.

After a violent argument, I stormed out of my chambers, telling him I needed to leave to clear my head. I can still remember his face. The look of hurt in his eyes at the words I had spoken out of pain and anger.

 _“I_ _'_ _m_ _still_ _the_ _same_ _person”_ _Merlin_ _said_ _._

_“_ _How can I know?_ _”_

_“Because_ _I_ _'_ _m_ _telling_ _you_ _!_ _”_

_Merlin looked sad as he stepped ahead._

_“Don_ _'_ _t_ _come_ _any_ _closer_ _!_ _”_

 _“I_ _'_ _m_ _not_ _the_ _enemy_ _Arthur_ _._ _”_

 _“For_ _all_ _I_ _know_ _you_ _could_ _be_ _just_ _like_ _Agravain_ _or_ _Morgana_ _._ _I_ _don_ _'_ _t_ _know_ _you_ _anymore_ _._ _”_

 _“You_ _do_ _now_ _,_ _Arthur_ _._ _And_ _I_ _have_ _n't change. You know me. I could never hurt you... My magic is meant only to protect you Arthur. I use it for you and you only._ _”_

 _“What_ _is_ _the_ _word_ _of_ _a_ _sorcerer_ _,_ _uh_ _?_ _”_

I remember the way he'd looked. He was mortified, as if stroke by lighting, or hit by a mace. Maybe that was the reason I had left in a hurry. I was angry, surely, but above all I was unable of seeing this look on his face. The rest of that day comes in a blur in my head. I remember the chaos that the revelation had unleashed in the castle. The knights were divided. Some of them, mostly those who had worked for my father were angry at Merlin for lying, for being a sorcerer. Others, the younger knights, Gwaine, Elyan and Gwen couldn't bring themselves to believe Merlin was a threat, or an evil sorcerer. I couldn't even say it for myself. I couldn't think straight.

I needed to leave. I needed to run away and scream. I came down the square, asked for a horse and some supplies, and left, but not before I had calmed myself down. I went to warn Gwen and Gaius that I needed to go. I told them I was going to visit Queen Annis, that it would be a short trip, just to clear my thoughts. I couldn't deal with the late events, couldn't deal with hearing the knights ask for Merlin's execution. Couldn't deal with Merlin. Not now. Not when I could do or say something I would regret — though I already regretted the words I had said.

“So when you left, it wasn't really cheerful here, as you can expect” Gwaine continues.

“What the hell did you do to my manservant?” I shout, voice unsteady from my sobs.

“Calm down, Sire” Leon speaks. “No one hurt him. But there were some of the knights who asked for Merlin's execution. I myself wanted him to face trial. I despised sorcerers, I always did. But then, as Merlin never once tried to speak for himself, to seek forgiveness or even tried to defend himself, I realized Merlin was still Merlin. That he was different from every evil sorcerer that we’ve encountered during the years. So I fought against the knights who still saw him as a threat.”

“We all defended him, Arthur.” Percival adds.

“What happened?” I keep repeating this like a mantra. Nothing else matters. I don’t care about the knights, about anyone. I’m animated from the only thought of what happened to Merlin. It’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart and screaming my soul out.

“Merlin felt really bad about hurting you” Percival says. “That much we could see. I caught him in the armory the day after you left. He was polishing your swords and caring for your armor and weapons, as if it didn’t change anything in his duties. And he was crying, Sire. I had never seen him looking so small and unnoticed. As if he wanted to disappear or something. That's when I understood what kind of person Merlin is- _was_. He was loyal, kind and goodhearted. He wouldn't have hurt any of us. In the end we _did_ know him all along. Hell, he saved us, being fully aware of our reactions but he didn’t have a choice. He did it for us. Throw his life and secret away to save us. Never asked for any recognition, any credit. He was supposed to be so powerful and yet he sat there, hurting his hands while polishing your sword. He sat there being your servant, Arthur.”

“I'm not sure exactly where he went, but the day after, he disappeared” Leon continues. “Gaius claims Merlin said he was going to collect some herbs, but was that the truth? We'll never know. We couldn't find him anywhere. The woods were clear, but we managed to find his neckerchief. I ordered a group of men to look further, as I know, Sire, you would've done if you knew Merlin was nowhere to be found. We still cared for him too, so we searched restlessly until we found him.”

As the story goes on, and as the reality comes clashing at my face and mind, I can't stop the never ending tears that wet my cheeks. The burn is so painful in my throat, in my chest. I softly caress Merlin's cold hand, wishing it all to be a freaking dream. But the touch of his icy skin is too real… too real…

“You found him like this?” I murmur, not able to raise my voice anymore. The anger faded. The pain is the only thing remaining in my empty body, eating away what’s left of me.

“Yes, my lord” Leon finally admits. “He was in the darkling woods, near the ruins of that old temple. He was beaten. He had been stabbed, cut, punched, and hurt in so many different ways. We couldn't do anything other than bring him back to Camelot. But the wounds were bad. Very bad. He'd lost so much blood. And he had those... iron manacles circling his wrists, which, according to Gaius, restrained his magic and kept him from using it.”

“Not only it kept him from using his magic” Gaius says, speaking for the first time since I arrived. “Merlin's magic is like air in his lungs. Without it, he's weakened. He loses his vital energy. Whoever did this to my dear boy... Merlin had no way to defend himself. He never stood a chance, as you can see his tormentors clearly meant no less than to kill him.”

“They restrained his magic” I blurt out, words like poison. “So it wasn't some random bandits...”

“No my lord.”

“They knew about his magic…”

I want so much to find them and kill them with my bare hands, but I can't. I fall to my knees and don't think I can stand up ever again. I turn to Merlin and grip his forearm, putting my head against it. It's cold, but I can smell the faintest, far away scent of him, a smell that is slowly disappearing from his body.

“How long has he been...?”

“Three days” Leon says. “Gaius opened the windows and let the cold air of winter comes in to keep him... So you’d have a chance to see him whenever you’d come back.” He stops, not even he, Leon, brave and strong knight, is able to say the words. Those _awful_ words. I think for a moment I'm going to be sick.

“There was nothing you could've done...?” I ask, not even with a resentful voice. I'm not accusing them, I'm over this state of mind. I'm just defeated.

“When they arrived, Merlin was already dying.” Gaius explains. “I tried my best but there were so many wounds... He didn’t last long, Sire, and in my heart I was only glad he was no longer in agony.”

I sob violently at the word, and put my head again on the bed, my hand clenching at Merlin's arm. I close my eyes, imagining him on the verge of death, hurting everywhere, and I know, I _know_ deep down in my heart that he must have asked for me. And the thought alone makes a terrible nausea works his way up my throat.

This can't be true. It's a nightmare. I'm going to wake up, and Merlin will be there, unbalanced on his clumsy feet, with my breakfast that he almost drops on my table. He'll make so much noise that he won't need to wake me up. He'll then push the curtains open to make the sun lighten his beautiful face. _'Rise and shine!'_ Then I'll groan and he'll pull me out of bed. _'C'mon, don't be a prat!'_ I'll fall on the floor and he'll pick me up to force some clothes on me. When I'm ready, I'll catch his arm and steal a few kisses from him. And we’ll smile to each other. Because I love him so much.

But this won't ever happen again.

Merlin is dead. He died alone, while I was away, far away from him. While I was gone. While I was angry for something as silly as magic.

I wish so much right now that I could give a damn shit about the magic. That it could've been for something at least. But no. It was just stupid. He died over something as stupid as magic, while I don’t even care that he’s a sorcerer! He died thinking I hated him. He died never knowing how much he was loved because I never told him.

The animalistic, agonizing yell that comes out of my mouth doesn't even make me feel better.

Nothing will ever do.

 

***

It was so wrong. To imagine Merlin suffering. He was the sweetest person you would ever meet, the last one you would want to see in pain. Gwen wiped her tears again.

She couldn’t believe it when the knights had return with their burden. Merlin had looked small and fragile and broken in Leon’s big arms as they brought him to Gaius. But what she would never forget was the urgency of their footsteps, their voices as they shouted their way through the castle. At that moment she was with Gaius, helping the physician tend to a young servant who had cut herself on a broken plate, and she knew it was something bad, Leon was never this agitated, he was always so _calm_. The girl had moved on the side quickly when they all saw the knights come barging in.

The hours that followed were some of Gwen’s worst in her whole life. She’d lost dear ones before. Her father. The love of her life: Lancelot. But grief was never easier the second or third time. Not when the person was so dear, so loved. She learned it harshly as Merlin laid there, whimpering, crying in real agony. He was almost unrecognizable. All the blood on his face, on the rest of his body. He was panicking, each breath he took seemed to hurt like hell. He was looking everywhere around the room, searching for something, for someone — and Gwen knew exactly what, or rather _who_ he was looking for, and that made the situation all the more tragic, because that person was not there. He was crying from the unbearable pain as Gaius tried his best to calm him down. But Merlin knew, just as they all knew, that he wouldn’t last very long. That was why it was so important for him to find _him_ … for there were things he wanted to say.

“A-a-a-arth… A-arthur…” he had managed, blood flowing out of his mouth. “I…I’m… S-s-s-sorr…I’m sorry… Arthur…”

“It’s alright, my boy, shhh. It’s alright, we’re here.” Gaius kept saying, trying to soothe the poor boy. Gwen was crying by then, hand over her mouth. She remembered walking to him and kissing his forehead, murmuring sweet words into his ear, caressing his bloody and dirty hair, to try to make him feel loved in the last minutes of his life. She didn’t want him to feel scared, or alone, for there was nothing worst in this world than leaving it alone.

 “You’re going to be alright” Gaius added. “I’m not leaving you, my dear boy. None of us are…”

Half an hour later he had lost consciousness and not long after that, Merlin wasn’t breathing anymore. Guinevere remembered standing there for almost an hour, crying a river of tears, because she couldn’t bring herself to believe he was really dead. _Merlin_. Their funny, kind and sweet friend, the one that was always there for them. He had always been around, had always been strong for everyone. He had been kind to her ever since they first met. She would remember his smile, a smile that could enlighten a room on a dark and rainy day. A smile that could make things alright when everything seemed lost and hopeless.

She remembered asking herself how on earth they were going to tell Arthur… She knew what the young man meant to Arthur, knew what the two young men were to each other. There had been a time when she and Arthur had been so close, when Arthur would confide in her, tell her everything. And he had told her once about his feelings for Merlin, about how he wanted to tell him, to love him, to be with him.

Telling Arthur that Merlin died while he was away on a trip would be the hardest thing they would ever have to do. 

And it had been.

After the knights explained everything that had happened, Arthur had cried, then had started to yell and scream. He was inconsolable. Gwen hurt to see him like this, it was almost as worst as having seen Merlin died thinking Arthur wasn’t there for him.

The young king was on his knees now. Four hours had passed ever since he discovered the truth, since he was back from his trip. He had, after all this time, finally cried himself to sleep, or maybe it was the great amount of pain that had forced his mind to rest, making him lose consciousness. Whatever the reason, Arthur was now sleeping, sitting on the floor like a mess, his head laying on the bed beside Merlin’s still body. They were heartbreaking. Really. Gwen had been gone for a while to bring Gaius some fresh water, and when she returned, that was the scene painted in front of her. The two people she knew deserved more than anyone to be happy. One was dead; the other broken forever.

The knights were also gone, except for Gwaine who was sitting in a corner, head in hands and mourning silently. She stared at Arthur, who looked like a small child, curled up like this. She stepped in the room and spotted Gaius, who was sitting on his own bed, gazing into the void.

“Someone should wake Arthur and help him on a soft surface. It’s not good for him to sleep on the cold floor, he’ll get sick…” she whispered as she held out a goblet of water to the old man.

Gaius nodded even though he didn’t seem to understand what she said. She sighed sadly. After a short silence, Gwaine cleared his throat, slowly getting up on his unsteady feet.

“You got that right.”

He got up from his tiny corner and walked towards her. He looked like hell himself, she thought, traces of tears covering his face. His features were hard. It was painful to see all the grief on the usual cheerful faces. Her heart clenched as she remembered why.

Gwaine smiled mirthlessly at Gwen and then walked to the king. He put a soft hand on his shoulder but then Gwen called him.

“Oh, Gwaine! You know what? Leave it. He looks peaceful… At least while he’s asleep he’s not suffering. Let’s leave him to rest.”

She looked around the room and found a thick blanket. She wrapped it around Arthur’s shoulders and kissed the top of his head.

Gwaine nodded, jaw tightening.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll go and try to have some rest.”

Gwen gave a nod with her head.

“Will you be alright?” she murmured.

“Will _you_?” Gwaine asked back, softness in his eyes as he started at the young woman. “I know how close you were to Merlin.”

“He was my best friend” she said in a whisper as a tear fell down her cheek. “I miss him so much already. You have no idea, Gwaine…”

Before she started crying, Gwaine wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

“I know. I miss him too. Will always do…”

After a brief embrace, they stepped back. At the same time, footsteps were heard. Gwen turned her head to see Elyan. He looked sad as he eyed them both.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes,” Gwen said even though it was obviously a lie.

“I came to take you home. Gwen, you need rest.” Her brother said.

“I think I’ll sleep here tonight…”

Arthur needed her. She needed him. They both needed to be near Merlin.

Elyan sighed.

“It’s cold in here, Gwen, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“It’s alright, mate,” Gwaine said as he unwrapped his cloak to put it around Gwen’s shivering and cold silhouette. “Here, you’ll be warmer.”

She smiled sincerely. “Thank you Gwaine,” she whispered.

“Look after him. The next few months will be real tough for all of us, but especially to Arthur.”

Gwen nodded, and Elyan came closer to hug her. Then he and Gwaine left the icy room. The windows were still opened, letting the winter breeze refrigerate the room to conserve Merlin’s body so they would have the time they needed to prepare him for his burial.

Gwen found the corner Gwaine was set in a few moments ago, looked at Gaius on the other side of the room and noticed the old man had fallen asleep, also drowning in his own sorrow and grief. She set herself down, wrapped in Gwaine’s warm cloak and, after what felt like forever, she fell asleep.

***

 _“If_ _I_ _do_ _die_ _,_ _will_ _you_ _call_ _me_ _a_ _hero_ _?_ _”_

_“Probably_ _._ _”_

It felt surreal. He could picture Merlin’s face so well. The shape of his features. His mouth, slightly opened as he breathed in, his eyes, ever so blue… always driving Arthur so mad with love and fascination. The color of his skin. Pale, but with a soft and light shade of pink when he laughed. And that he did so often… It was always so easy to make him laugh, and the little dimple in his cheeks when he smiled. The way he would curl up to his body when they slept. Merlin was always cold in the night, and Arthur was always more than happy to provide him with some of his body warmth.

He remembered the way his breath felt against his neck when they made love. The sound of his voice, echoing in his room.

 _“I_ _’_ _m_ _happy_ _to_ _be_ _your_ _servant_ _._ _Until_ _the_ _day_ _that_ _I_ _die_ _._ _”_

Every damn time Merlin would talk about death, Arthur would freak out, but also unconsciously deny it. _“You_ _’_ _re_ _not_ _going_ _to_ _die_ _,_ _Merlin”_ , he would say in a rude way, because he just couldn’t bear it, couldn’t bear the sound of this dreadful word, not when it was related to Merlin. He had always acted like Merlin was invincible. Like nothing could ever come over him. As if he could never die. As if he was eternal. But even with all his magic and powers, he was human. His body was fragile, just like everyone. He was no special in the end. Even Merlin needed protection.

 _I’_ _m_ _so_ _sorry_ _,_ _my_ _love_ _._ _I_ _should_ _’_ _ve_ _been_ _there_ _…_

***

Voices woke Gwen the next day. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Gaius and Arthur standing near Merlin. Merlin who hadn’t moved an inch…

 _How could he?_ she said to herself.

“Sire, there is no need for that”, the physician said.

“He’ll be more comfortable.” Arthur said, voice cold and low.

Gwen felt her heart dropped down her chest. _More comfortable._ Arthur talked like Merlin was still alive… Did he only realize it?

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Arthur didn’t even bother to look at her. It was Gaius who shot her a look. The old man seemed so tired, like he hadn’t slept in a decade.

“I’m moving him to my chambers.” The king announced.

“He’s dead, Arthur”, Gwen said without thinking, sitting up straight. “It’s not like he’s going to wake up…”

“YES! I know! I know, alright? There’s no need to remind me of that!” Arthur then snapped. “It’s hard enough to bear as it is!”

Gwen jumped, startled by Arthur’s loud shout. She bit her lower lip, then looked at Gaius, silently asking for support. The physician’s look told to her to not upset the king even more then he already was. Arthur needed to come to his senses on his own. He needed to mourn and if for that he needed Merlin in his bedchambers, then so be it.

But Gwen couldn’t bear to see Arthur manhandling Merlin just about anywhere. He was dead, for God’s sake! Couldn’t they just leave him be? Couldn’t they let him rest? They should have buried him by now already!

“Arthur! Merlin’s not some toy you can just toss around. Why would you need him in your chambers?” she said, feeling the anger rose inside her.

Arthur ignored her. He carefully took Merlin’s wrists and took the manacles off. The young man’s wrists were bruised, the scratched skin gone into a pale shade of purple and red. Arthur was barely touching him, only brushing against his skin as if he was afraid he would wake him up — or hurt him even more. Merlin’s body was so broken. Gwen felt tears come to her eyes, knowing no one could hurt Merlin anymore but hating the idea of anyone troubling his rest. Did Arthur only realize what he was doing?

“Arthur?” she called.

The blond haired man stayed silent as he slowly, delicately wrapped an arm under Merlin’s legs and another under his back. She shivered violently as he lifted him into his arm, Merlin’s head lifelessly swaying, attracted by gravity. He was so pale now. He was beyond white. He looked like a ghost, almost grayish. And yet he still looked beautiful and young despite how hurt and tortured he’d been.

“Careful!” she cried to Arthur, unable to keep her mouth shut.

Arthur then looked at her, his eyes so full of emptiness that it scared her. Then he turned away and started walking out of the physician’s quarters with his precious burden. When he was out in the corridor, Gwen went to Gaius, alarmed and shocked and distressed. Sorrow and fear painted her eyes, and worry for Arthur who was so out of it, so far gone into his misery and pain.

“Gaius!”

“Let him, Gwen”, Gaius said, calming her down. “Let him do as he pleases. I know it’s not healthy for him, but if it’s what he needs to get his mourning at least a little easier, then so be it. Don’t worry, I’ll get the knights to try and talk to him this afternoon. Merlin will have his rest soon enough.”

 

***

 

I cannot believe I kept telling him he talked too much. How could I ever want Merlin to be so silent? It’s not… natural. It’s tearing me apart. I gently put him on my bed, and take a look at his face, only to feel my insides twisting, ripping, bleeding. The tears rise up again, I can’t keep them down. I can’t. I’ve seen so many corpses in my life, so many dead bodies, but Merlin… Merlin looks so beautiful, he doesn’t even look dead, except for the shade of his skin, slowly turning gray. He looks almost peaceful, as if he’s happy… resting… gone somewhere nice and safe. And even though it hurts so much I hope he really _is_ somewhere nice and safe…

I lean down and kiss his forehead, then I caress his cheek with the back of my hand. That’s when I lose it. I can’t control myself anymore: I fall down in tears. Powerful sobs begin to shake my body with such force I almost fall over, as I hover on top of Merlin’s body. My hands come circling his face, but I can’t touch him. Touching him gives so much reality to this nightmare and it hurts even more. I cry. One of my hand slaps my mouth shut to keep the storm inside. I feel like I’m dying, like I’m losing myself completely, like my soul is ripping out of my body to leave it an empty shell. Like I’m no longer King Arthur of Camelot. Like I’m no longer the person Merlin made me, the person I was around him, _because_ of him. Without him, what have I got? What’s the point of moving on if he’s not there by my side like he’s always been? Why have I never realized before how he was my light? The light that guides my way through life… Why do I have to understand how much he means now that he’s dead?

I don’t know how long it’s been when someone enters my room. They don’t even knock — and I don’t even care. I’m on the bed, still so close to him. I can’t let go. _I can’_ _t_ _._ I will never be able to.

My sobs are violent. I must look like shit. Tears streaming down my face, lips trembling. I’m crying and screaming. I’m like an animal.

“GO AWAY!” I shout as the person comes closer.

Merlin doesn’t even flinch and I have to remind myself that there’s no way he could.

And I cry even harder, my whole being cracking in a thousand pieces as I roll down on the bed beside him. I hold my face and curl up in a tight ball. It hurts so much inside it’s unbearable. It’s worst than when my father died. Worst than anything that ever happened.

The person approaches and helps me to a sitting position. I feel arms wrapping around my shoulders, but I don’t see them, my vision completely blurry from my tears. My head hurts, it’s aching, and I snuggle close to the person like a small child, and burry my face into the crook of their neck. That’s when I realize it’s Gwen. I recognize her sweet, comforting smell. She cries softly while holding me. When I open my eyes again, I see some of my knights in the room. Gaius is there, and I don’t know how he’s capable of being so still, so controlled. It’s like there’s a demon inside me that wants to crawl its way out from my chest, tearing everything on its way.

Gwaine has his arms crossed, like he’s trying to hold himself together. Elyan keeps his jaw tight, Percival looks like he’s about to punch something really hard, and Leon has one hand over his mouth. They all have sad looks on their faces. Everything has gone so dark and bitter. Nothing feel no longer like itself, like it should be. And I doubt they ever will again. Something’s missing. Something irreplaceable.

“It’s going to be alright. Shh, Arthur… I’m here. Shh… it’s okay. I’m still here. I’ve got you.”

Her voice is shaking, but somehow I find myself falling into her arms. I find some comfort in the sound of her voice and I close my eyes.

But whatever I do or whatever I tell myself, the pain just won’t go away.

***

“I know this is hard, Arthur. It’s hard for all of us. But we have to… you know, give him a proper burial. It’s time to bury him.”

 _He’_ _s_ _been_ _dead_ _for_ _five_ _days_ _._ _This_ _is_ _sick_ _. You’_ _re_ _making_ _yourself_ _sick_ _,_ _Arthur_ _._ _Let_ _go_ _,_ were Leon’s unspoken words. _You have to let go. You have to let him go._

“Just one more day. Give me one day.” Arthur stuttered, looking and sounding like a lost and broken child. “It’s cold enough in my room. I… I just need… _Please_. I just need him. O-One day. I promise after that I will let go. I just… _Please_. It’s all I’m asking, and for all I know I’m still the king.”

Hearing Arthur say _please_ two times was enough. Leon sighed as he looked at Gaius. And he was, indeed, still the king.

“One day”, Gaius said.

This was sick. Unhealthy, even. Merlin was dead on his bed. He was dead, had been for five days now. The council and Arthur’s most trusted men had already prepared everything for the funerals and the burial. But with the cold weather, Merlin’s body wasn’t… well, it still looked very much normal, and Arthur couldn’t resist this crazy and morbid urge to keep him. Arthur was starting to catch a cold but he didn’t care. His eyes were red and swollen for all the crying, and he looked tired. So tired. But he wasn’t ready to see his beloved disappear for good. He wasn’t ready, just… _wasn’_ _t_. He probably never would but that was another story.

So this final day, Arthur woke up before dawn. He barely ate anything nor drank. He spent the whole day caring for Merlin. He washed his body carefully, delicately. He undressed him and put fancy clothes on him, so he would look perfect and beautiful forever. So he would properly look like the great, _great_ man that he had been for all eternity

He had felt nervous all day because he knew those very last moments with him would come to an end. When he finished tending to Merlin, preparing him for the next day, he sat there, on top of his desk and stared at him, feeling his stomach twist. Unlike the past two days, where he’d cried violently, sobbing and screaming out his pain like a wounded animal, he was now only crying silently, quiet tears falling down. He hadn’t eaten. Couldn’t take anything down his throat without it going right back up. But Gwen somehow convinced him. She brought his dinner herself that evening and stayed a little while with him, to make sure he fed himself, to make sure that he was going to be okay. Forever changed and forever incomplete because his other half was dead, but okay for now and that was all she needed to know before Arthur asked to be left alone.

She then left, trying her hardest not to look at Merlin. It was too hard, even though Arthur really made him look beautiful — but she guessed it was what hurt the most. Like this, without all the wounds and cuts he had died with, Merlin looked so much like himself, so young, so… _healthy_. She left with tears in her eyes.

Arthur continued staring at Merlin for hours, until he fell asleep on his desk.

It was very late when it happened. The sound of Arthur’s empty plate flying across the room to clash against the wall made him woke up with a jolt of surprise. Arthur lifted his head up and squinted his eyes: the plate was on the other side of the room, laying on the floor with the remaining of his unfinished food. Arthur frowned.

“Is someone there?” he called. He turned around to look for someone but there was no one.

He stood and looked at Merlin.

But what he saw made him frown even more: the young man had his head turned on the right side. Arthur felt his heart speed up. He was certain he had placed Merlin’s head to face up! What could have made him turn his head? Did someone come here and touch him while he was asleep? Arthur suddenly felt rage rising up inside him at the single idea of someone _touching_ Merlin’s unmoving form. And then it happened again.

A glass, one that was on the bedside table, lifted itself up and flew with a scary force, as if an invisible hand had thrown it, almost hitting Arthur on the head in the process. The king dodged it and looked around, beginning to get really worried. Was he finally losing his mind?

“Who’s there?” he asked, his voice rising up as he picked his sword.

But nothing. Slowly, he calmed himself and put his weapon down.

He walked to Merlin’s side. He hesitated for a moment, but then reached his hand to replace his head the way it was.

And Arthur almost screamed, immediately withdrawing his fingers from Merlin’s skin as if he’d been burned.

It wasn’t exactly it. But Merlin was… he was _warm_.

“I’m dreaming… there’s no way…” he muttered to himself, not quite believing it.

He fell down on his knees, legs suddenly feeling so weak. And again, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, or delirious, he reached his hand and gently put his fingers on Merlin’s forehead. He brushed some hair to touch him plainly and almost choked.

Merlin was still cold, but there was definitely traces of warmth on his skin. Something that wasn’t there the days before. Merlin had been icy cold… and now there was this slight change of temperature. Was that even normal? Was the room not cold enough?

Then a pillow went flying from his bed to the floor a few meters away. Arthur’s eyes widened, but his gaze went straight back up to Merlin in a frantic drive.

He knew he sounded crazy. But he had to… he _had_ to…

“Merlin?” he asked, voice low and scared.

He looked down at Merlin’s arms. The dark bloody bruises that had been caused by the manacles were gone. Healed. And so were all the cuts and wounds that had been washed clean from blood. That wasn’t possible, was it? He was dreaming. And how on earth hadn’t he notice this earlier today? Maybe he’d been too much into his thoughts, in his tears and sorrow.

But that freaking _had_ to be a dream. A dead man couldn’t _heal_ for pity’s sake! He wanted to scream. Nothing made sense. Was that some kind of sick nightmare? One that would make him feel so much worse when he’d wake from it?

Then it hit Arthur that Merlin was no ordinary man. That he had magic. God, he’d even heard of sorcerers’ tales when he was a boy. Some great wizards who were gifted with…

He couldn’t say the word, couldn’t, for the love of Camelot, think about it. It hurt too much. The hope that was already beginning to form inside his chest without his consent was too much. Too painful.

But then another pillow moved on its own, and a third, and a forth. It was like everything around him went alive. Arthur looked at them, not sure if he ought to be scared. He then looked back at Merlin at the exact same time the young man’s mouth opened wide as he took a deep breath.

Arthur couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It all happened quickly. Too quickly for him to really take in everything. Merlin’s head rose. His eyes opened; a bright, flaming gold gleaming in the dark. And as he took sight of the golden gaze, Arthur could hear the many objects behind him flying and clashing and knocking around. He understood it was Merlin’s magic that was going wild.

He was breathing fast. And whatever the hell was happening, dream or not, Arthur reacted right away, his protective instinct stepping in.

“Merlin? Merlin, slow down! Hey, easy, easy! Breathe! Breathe slowly!”

Merlin looked around him, looking confused, breathing erratic. The gold in his eyes was still there, and for a moment, Arthur wonder if it was just the magic dying away, or leaving his body to return wherever the hell it came from in the first place. But he also remembered what Gaius had told him about Merlin: his magic wasn’t something he had learned. It was his body, his lungs, his heart. Merlin’s magic was Merlin himself. So if Merlin’s magic was still alive, Merlin had to be, too… right?

“It’s alright” he said shakily. “You’re alright, Merlin, I’m here! Hey…”

He turned to the door.

“Guards! GUARDS!”

Two men came storming in the king’s room. They looked startled when they took sight of what was happening in the room but didn’t have anytime to react properly.

“FETCH THE COURT PHYSICIAN! _IMMEDIATELY!_ ”

The guards obeyed, and Arthur felt a frenzy rose in his body, an excitement like never before, as he witnessed the guards’ reaction to seeing Merlin. So it meant he wasn’t dreaming, did it? The guards had seen him too!

Merlin’s eyes were back to their normal blue when Arthur looked at him again and the objects in the room had fallen on the floor, unmoving. He seemed agitated, out of breath. Panicked, almost. Arthur closed his hand around his forearm, bringing his other hand to his face.

“Merlin, look at me. Hey… over here.”

The boy was completely lost. The confusion in his eyes was heartbreaking. He was still so pale, so fragile… so unstable. He had never seemed so precious to Arthur.

“It’s alright, Gaius’s coming, you’ll be alright Merlin”, he murmured.

“ _Merlin_ …?” Merlin whispered, his voice so broken and rough Arthur almost didn’t understand.

And it hit him: was Merlin even himself? Arthur wasn’t sure of what was happening right now, but if he didn’t know any better, he’d say that Merlin just came back to life. He came back from the dead. After five days. Five days of being _dead_. Did it happen to powerful beings such as Merlin? And when it happened, did it change them? Did they return whole or a completely different person? Did they return with their memories?

The idea of Merlin not remembering himself or even Arthur for that matter made the king feel nauseous. But he couldn’t care less because Merlin was, against all odds, _alive_. Tears of joy and disbelief fell down his cheeks, and he smiled warmly at the young man, realizing that this would have been a trade he would’ve made to have him back. He would have sold his soul if he could have.

“That’s you, Merlin. God! I can’t believe it!” he laughed nervously, feeling like a complete wreck but this time without the unbearable pain added to it.

Merlin stared at him, oblivious to what was happening. Arthur wanted to kiss him so bad right now, blow some life back into him for good, but still wasn’t sure a hundred percent if it was all true or just him being too deep into his grief that he was imagining things. Maybe he was losing his mind after all…

The doors then burst opened. Arthur turned around, giving everything that he had to look away from Merlin’s eyes. Gaius was running in the chambers, and he rushed even more when he took sight of the scene.

“Sire!” he cried, more startled and confused that Arthur had ever seen the old man.

“Am I dreaming, Gaius?” Arthur only asked, already back to staring at Merlin.

“I must say I’m not entirely sure myself”, Gaius said and then leaned down on the bed.

“Merlin? Merlin, my boy.”

The young sorcerer looked at the physician and for a short, cold moment of uncertainty, he frowned, as if he didn’t, indeed, recognize or remember any of them. Arthur was about to bite his lip. But Merlin, still looking so vulnerable, made a little sound.

“I’m n… not sure, I… Wha… G-Gaius?”

“Oh, my boy…!” It seemed that Gaius couldn’t hold himself any longer. He leaned even more on the young man and took his gentle, fragile body and gathered him into his arms. Merlin’s face appeared at Gaius’s shoulders and his baby blue eyes met Arthur’s sapphires. The king couldn’t help the big, idiot, goofy smile that was on his face instantly. The tears were falling freely now.

Merlin was alive.

His heart was beating and he was breathing. 

For a moment, Arthur felt like he’d just came back to life himself.

***

 

“How is this possible?”

Gaius was sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling Merlin’s forehead for the twentieth time since Arthur had sent for him. It seemed he couldn’t bring himself to believe his precious ward was really alive and he needed to feel him to make sure. Merlin was sleeping now, and maybe he was afraid that it had been a dream or some illusion, and Arthur was, too. He’d been panicked when Merlin had fallen into a deep slumber, but since they were both there and looking at him, feeling his heartbeat and his breath, they allowed themselves some peace of mind.

But still Arthur couldn’t understand just what had happened. Men weren’t just coming back to life like that. Despite all the magic in this world, death was still death — you couldn’t win over it. And yet, Merlin _had_.

“I’m not sure”, was Gaius’ quiet answer.

“Merlin is quite powerful, I get that. And I cannot… express how happy I am that he is… here with us again, but when you’re dead, you’re… well, you know, _dead_. Even a sorcerer.”

“Merlin is so much more than a sorcerer, my lord. He is a warlock.”

“Does that make him… what, immortal?”

Arthur couldn’t believe the word he’d just said.

Gaius kept thinking for a moment, hand slowly and gently brushing Merlin’s hair.

“I cannot say for certain”, the old man said. “But it seems we just witnessed it. Therefore I have to say that he is.”

Arthur felt his stomach twist and for a slight second, he felt dizzy, lightheaded. This was too much. Immortal? As in… never dying? Ever? He was immensely happy, happier than he could ever feel in an entire lifetime that Merlin wasn’t dead after all, and even more to know that he never would, but would _Merlin_ be so happy about that? Would someone want to be immortal? It sounded… hard. To live a thousand lifetimes. Maddening at some point. It sounded unreal. It was stronger, bigger than anything on earth, anything they ever knew.

“Is a warlock always immortal?” Arthur asked.

“I don’t know, Arthur. Merlin is, and has always been unique.”

“But why… _how_ has he been dead for the past five days? Why come back now?”

“It’s only an hypothesis, Sire, but I believe it might be the work of the iron manacles he had been wearing. You know that iron restrain magic. He’s been wearing them for three days before you took them off. In my grief I didn’t think it would have changed anything that I took them off or not, so I didn’t… But _you_ did.”

“But from the moment I took them off his wrists, two days passed”, Arthur pointed out.

“Yes. And I believe — again it’s only a guess — that during the two days his magic was trying to work its way back to life. Magic is a tricky thing. In Merlin’s case, it works along with his body. And since Merlin’s body was dead, I believe his magic has had a hard time finding his resources to come to the surface. But it had, because Merlin’s magic just like Merlin himself won’t die. It’s the fabric of this world. He truly is remarkable”, the last sentence he added after a moment of reflection.

Arthur frowned. Gaius didn’t make much sense to him. All he knew was that Merlin was back. And that was enough.

He walked to him and put a gentle hand on the young man’s cheek.

“He’s warmer already” he murmured.

“Yes.”

“Alright then. Thank you, Gaius. I do mean it, but I can see that you are exhausted. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll send for you in the morning so you’ll be able to examine Merlin more closely. See if everything is really fine with him.”

Gaius nodded. He leaned down and kissed his ward’s forehead. He’d never had children in his life, so he didn’t know what it felt like to lose them. But he thought it might have felt like losing Merlin. Complete despair and heartache and endless pain. The old man had grown so fond of this boy and he was so happy that he was here again — he was like a son to him, a very dear son. The physician swore to himself he would look after him better, because for the lord’s sake, the boy was _way_ too young to be die- get hurt.

“My boy,” he whispered again before getting to his feet.

Surprisingly, Gaius found himself crushed in the king’s arms when he turned around. Arthur was hugging him like a child would, Gaius suddenly thought, trembling and needing comfort after a terrible event. Gaius was glad to say that this terrible event wasn’t so terrible anymore. He smiled and hugged the boy back.

“I’m sorry Gaius. I know how hard it must have been for you. I… it was my fault in the first place and I swear I’ll take better care of him in the future.”

“Come come”, Gaius said as he stepped back, taking the king’s arms and looking at him like he would a little boy. “I was just saying the same to myself. No need to feel so bad, Arthur, it wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you and I have never been angry at you. Merlin is alright now. Promise me you will get some sleep yourself.”

Arthur nodded, throat tight and eyes wet, yet again. It really was starting to become a habit these days.

“Good.”

The physician patted the king’s shoulder and retreated, but not before he looked one last time at Merlin’s sleeping form. 

***

Even though I promised Gaius I would get some sleep, I can’t. How could I? It’s not everyday someone _literally_ comes back to life. I’m still in the process of getting this piece of information through my head. How is this even possible? Merlin was dead. His whole body had ceased to function. His heart had stopped, he wasn’t breathing anymore, and then suddenly, his magic just wakes up, getting some objects flying around in the room and Merlin’s body starts working again. I can remember the deep breath he’d taken — as if he’d been under water for five days. 

He’s sleeping now. It took me a while to relax, and surely seeing Merlin unconscious will be a painful thing to look at for the next ten years at least.

I don’t think I could sleep, not now, so instead I sit on the bed besides him, back against some pillows that I placed so I’m comfortable, and I just look at him, untiringly. He’s warmer now, and he’s a lot less pale. His skin is still white and sickly, but he’s not the colour of a corpse anymore and that’s such a relief. Only this sweet familiar milky tone suits him, not the grayish, greenish deadly shade.

It’s not late when Merlin begins to stir under the sheets, it’s _early_. The first rays of pale morning light enter the room under the thick curtains. Merlin’s eyelids open, and a few seconds later, I see them. The blue eyes. The ones I thought I’d never see again.

Merlin lays on his back, and he slowly stretches, his arms lifting up on both sides of his head. It’s like he’s just coming around from a nap — a very long and deep one if you ask me! He seems so normal, so usual. I can’t help the few tears of joy that form in my eyes as I see him emerge. _You’_ _re_ _coming_ _back_ _from_ _a long way, my love._

I don’t move. I just look at him, and then, after what feels like eternity, he lifts up his head. His eyes search for the person he sensed was beside him and he finally sees me.

I can’t keep the smile that explodes from my face. All wide and teeth uncovered. A truly happy smile.

“Hey.”

Merlin frowns.

“A-Arthur…?”

His voice is hoarse and weak at the same time. But he doesn’t sound confused or anything. He sounds lucid, aware, if just a little sleepy.

“Do you even know what you’ve put me through, Merlin?”

He looks at me for a long time before he tries to straighten up on his elbows. I immediately put my hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t”, I tell him softly. “Don’t push yourself. It’s alright.”

He strangely obeys and lies back down on the pillow. But his eyes still look at me along with a light frown of his eyebrows.

“I don’t understand…”

“It’s okay. Tell me how you feel.”

“A little tired…”

“Do you remember what happened?”

It seems my question has upset him. I can almost hear him think and soon he begins to grimace, as if he remembered something painful. He looks away from me for a second, his frown getting more pronounced. I myself remember the state he was in when I saw him dead in Gaius’ chambers. All the wounds and the blood. Merlin must have been in so much pain… Maybe that’s what is now all coming back to him. Are all his wounds even properly healed now? The magic must have worked him during the two days that the shackles had been off.

“I was… hurt…” he states, speaking low and slow.

“Yes, you were. Do you remember who did this to you, Merlin?”

He looks up at me.

“Did what?”

“Beat you, stabbed you, all but left you to bleed out.”

_Murdered you._

“Who was it?”

Merlin remains silent. He looks up, eyes lost but full of something I can’t puzzle out. He looks just like himself again, but in a way though, he’s different. He’s not so loud. He’s more silent than chatty and that is so… _unlike_ him that it hurts. Will he ever be the same? I know that you don’t really come back from death the same, after all but I wish more than anything that with time he’ll be alright, that he’ll be his old self again.

But anyway.

I’m just glad he’s here.

“Merlin?”

“I remember walking in the woods” he begins in a murmur, his voice still hoarse from not having talked or drank in five days. “I needed some time alone and away from Camelot.”

“Leon and the knights found you in the darkling woods.”

“They found me?”

“Did you think they would go on with their lives while you were missing? You’re more important to every one of us than you realize, you stupid dollop-head.”

“Hey, that’s my word, prat” he says jokingly but he seems affected by my words. I’m affected too, because of his way of saying ‘prat’ that I missed so fucking much.

“What happened next?” I ask, wiping a few tears away and fortunately, Merlin doesn’t comment on them, even though I’m certain he saw them.

“I’m not sure… but I remember the beating. Yeah, that I do. _Oh_ , my ribs…”

He frowns and leans to touch his sides. He feels his body only to find that he’s not hurting anymore. When he realizes that his mortal wounds are gone, just disappeared, he smiles nervously at me.

“Ehehe, uh… I’ve always been a fast healer…”

I can’t help the sarcastic chuckle that spurts out of my mouth.

“A fast healer? Really, Merlin?”

“What?”

“Merlin, you… you were _dead_.”

My words throw an uncomfortable silence between us. Merlin doesn’t say anything before a very long moment, trying to make out the words I just said. When he talks again, there’s a little uncertain smile at the tips of his lips.

“Surely I’ve been unconscious for a while, Arthur, but I couldn’t’ve been d-…”

“No, Merlin, listen to me.”

I grab his face and lean closer.

“You weren’t just unconscious. There was no pulse. No warmth in your body. No heartbeat, none at all, and believe me, I searched for one. God knows I looked for a single beat of your heart! But you were an ugly shade of gray. Your skin was icy cold, you… you were dead. I know what a dead body looks like Merlin. I’ve seen thousands, being a prince and a knight. You’ve been dead for the past five days, you imbecile.”

My heart just clenches at the memory. The awful memory. The one I want to forget more than anything.

Merlin looks right at me, eyes wide again. His lips move to form words but none come out. He’s just there, out of things to say. And I can’t blame him. He doesn’t look like he remembers just everything yet, and here I am telling him he was dead.

“But… how…?”

“It’s alright, love. You’re here, now. It’s all that matters.”

“How is it possible?”

“Gaius says it’s because of the iron manacles you had on your wrists. It restrained your magic and when I took them off, your magic managed to get you back to life.”

Merlin seems to meditate on that. Eyes down, he chews his lower lip while thinking about his immortality, bathing in the idea of it. Did he even know that about himself?

I can’t begin to understand how heavy that should be on someone’s shoulders. What’s it like to be immortal? The perspective of never dying is certainly frightening. The only thing I’m thinking about is that I’m going to die one day and Merlin will have to live through it. Live forever with it.

Would I be able to live for all eternity without the one I love? My heart beats faster at the thought.

But when Merlin looks at me, eyes worried and confused, all the dumb thing that he thinks about is:

“Arthur, I’m sorry about my magic, I... I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you… I thought about telling you eventually, of course I had! But you know how things went, there was always bad timing and…”

“Hey, hey, slow down, will you?”

I take one of his wrist in my hand and kiss the inside, where the delicious beat of his heart can be felt. His veins are a pale blue against the white of his skin. I can feel the life in him… and I kiss it again.

“Merlin, for the past three days I wished for nothing more than you waking up so I could tell you how very little I care about you being a sorcerer. You were **_dead_** , for God’s sake! Do you even realize what I’m saying? Are you not aware of what you put me through? I thought, for far too long, that I’d never see your stupid smile again. That I’d never see these beautiful eyes, or the way you look at me. That I’d never hear your voice, never feel your arms around me ever again. So what if you have magic? Merlin, your magic saved my ass more times that I know of and just saved yours too so I’d be a jerk to blame you for that. And it’s not like you betrayed me. You were born with it so you couldn’t help it.”

“I use it for you, Arthur, only for you…” His voice is barely a murmur.

“I know. I have always known. You’re a hero Merlin. One that no one knows about. And it’s time to change that.”

“Wooh, easy tiger! What do you have in mind?”

I let out a soft laughter.

“Nothing for now. You need to rest. But don’t you think that in the future you’ll be treated like a servant.”

“Arthur…” he whispers softly, fingers brushing against the skin of my hand. “You don’t treat me like a servant.”

Of course I don’t. We’re lovers. Have been for the past two years already. But even before that, Merlin had always been special to me, dear to me in ways that other people in my life has never been, and never will be.

“I know” I answer. “I’m not talking about myself. I want the whole world to see how brave you are. How noble, courageous… and heroic.”

“Arthur, there’s really no need…”

His voice is weaker now. And he struggles not to fall asleep. Surely his magic has been weakened by all this time being restrained. He must be exhausted.

“There is every need. But you should rest now.”

He doesn’t answer but instead he tries to rise on his elbows. I frown and lean to help him sit, but he doesn’t want to sit. As soon as I’m close enough, I understand what he wanted, as he wraps an arm around my neck and pulls me down for a hug.

As weak as he is, he holds me with such force that I almost lose my breath.

But the smell of him, the sweet touch of his body, his heartbeat that I can feel… it’s more than I could have dreamed of. I hold him in my arms more than willingly, and very tightly, because I’m so afraid that I’ll lose him again. I won’t let go.

I breathe into his neck, my other hand going to his soft hair, enveloping him in a loving embrace.

And all I can think about is that it feels like home…

***

 

I never realized before how popular Merlin really was. Later in the morning when Merlin is ready, I carry him to Gaius’ chambers and not even ten minutes later, the whole palace comes by to see him — surely a king carrying a servant bridal-style around the castle isn’t so subtle and I guess the gossip quickly spread throughout the citadel.

Some servants who’d heard about Merlin’s ‘revival’ came by to see how he was doing, some knights visited, and surprisingly apologized for, and I quote them: “ _nobody deserved what happened to you Merlin_ ”. Some of Gaius’ daily patients came too, because they also knew Merlin and therefore liked him very much because really, who doesn’t like the warm and charming idiot when you know him?

And of course Guinevere. As soon as she’s awake, she comes barging in Gaius’ quarters. Her eyes are wide and tears soon begin to fall down her cheeks when she takes sight of Merlin. He’s sitting on a bench while Gaius is examining him, a few blankets around his slim shoulders because of the cold temperature. Gaius said that the weakness of his magic had caused Merlin to also feel weak and more vulnerable than normal to the changes of weather for a little while.

Gwen stops and freezes for a second, before she runs straight to him with a loud sob.

Merlin smiles wide when she envelopes him in her arms, hugging him tightly and I look at them with a smile of my own. My two favorite persons in the world, happy and safe, what more could you ask for?

“Oh Merlin!” she cries and steps back to kiss his forehead.

“Gwen.”

“I’m so happy, so happy! I thought I’d never see you again!”

Merlin gives her a warm smile.

“It’ll take more to get rid of me,” he jokes with one of his old and stupid wide grin.

Gwen lets out a nervous laugh.

“Yes! Yes, of course! Oh… Sorry I just…”

“It’s alright” he adds. “I’m here now. So don’t cry. I hate to see you cry.”

She smiles at him, still too shaken to talk and decides to hug him again instead.

After a little while, Gaius is finished. He looks up at me and then at Gwen.

“Well, Merlin.”

“What now?” he says in a little voice.

“You bear no mark of violence, my boy. You barely have a few scars, but they are so faded already that I am sure they will go away eventually. But otherwise you are perfectly fine. Your magic is a little weak and probably will be for a while. You shall be feeling sick and faint for a couple of weeks, but you are as healthy as a man your age should be.”

“Scars?” I ask.

Gaius and Gwen both look at me, but I only search for Merlin’s eyes. And I don’t find them. He obstinately avoids my gaze. After a while, I look at Gaius.

 _Don’_ _t_ _push_ _him_ _._ I can read the words in the old man’s eyes. Of course. If he remembers, only if a little bit, what happened, then he mustn’t be so eager to talk about it. After all, he’s been hurt, tortured even. I can still see the wounds, the blood, there was so much of it. He had clearly been stabbed several times and beaten. It must have been a living hell… a nightmare, and to be honest, he’s far better off not remembering.

Then, the door opens and I turn to see Gwaine, walking in the room, followed by Percival, Leon and Elyan. As soon as Gwaine catch sight of Merlin, alive and well, he rushes forward.

“Merlin!” he shouts.

Merlin looks up just in time. Gwaine wraps his arms around him. I smile a little bit. Merlin is surprised, but he loosens himself in the knight’s arms.

“Mate,” Gwaine adds as he, in his turn, holds Merlin tight. “When I heard it I couldn’t believe it. I had to see for myself.”

“It’s alright, I’m fine now,” Merlin says.

Gwaine steps back, and smiles widely while ruffling Merlin’s hair.

“You better be!”

Again Merlin smiles this cute little grin. I can also see a faint blush on his cheeks as he looks at all the knights who came to greet him. Gwaine steps aside to let Leon pat Merlin’s shoulders.

“I’m really glad to have you back, Merlin,” he says solemnly.

Merlin nods his head almost shyly and then it’s Percival’s turn to be all over him.

“It wasn’t the same without you around.”

And finally Elyan who holds him briefly in his arms.

“You broke my sister’s heart, you know that?” he says but adds gently “Honestly Merlin, don’t do that to us again alright?”

Merlin doesn’t seem to know what else to say beside a forced and hoarse little “Okay” that sounds vulnerable. He looks shaken and deeply moved. Damn. Does the idiot even realize how precious he is? Not just to me. He’s special to all the people that knows him, to all the people he warmed the heart with his smiles and his funny, selfless personality. He’s their friend, and he’s irreplaceable.

The knights stay for a while until Gaius decides Merlin is tired. He’s trying not to show it, but he yawns and his eyes close from time to time, struggling to stay awake. It’s only just past noon but he’s been through a lot and needs to get the most rest he possibly can. The physician shoos everyone outside and they all leave with the promise to come back to look on him. Gwen smiles at Merlin before smiling at me too. I smile at her and then Gaius close the door behind them.

“Should I go, too?” I ask.

“No, no, you’ll help Merlin get to bed. He needs some good sleep.”

“It’s fine Gaius, I can go to bed by myself,” Merlin protests. “It’s just a few steps.”

“You’re not going to sleep in there. The room is too cold, you’ll only get more sick. Arthur will take you back to the royal bedchambers. He’ll get a fire going and it’ll get warm in no time.”

Gaius looks at me as if to ask if it’s alright. I don’t even need to answer: of course it is. I didn’t want Merlin to sleep in this cold little room of his either.

“And if you feel up to it,” I add. “I’ll get a hot bath for you.”

Merlin looks horrified.

“No, no, no, I’m good, really. You really don’t need to bother, I…”

“I believe we didn’t ask for your permission Merlin,” I say as I step closer to him.

“Don’t be a prat,” he whines. “I said I was good.”

“And I said you’re coming with me to my chambers.”

“I…”

“Merlin, who’s the king?”

He rolls his eyes and smiles.

“Fine!”

I smile in victory.

“You’re a king-prat if you want my opinion…” he mutters again under his breath and I only roll my eyes because I’m happy. Merlin who doesn’t whine and talk back isn’t Merlin.

He puts his palm on the table and gets up on his feet. I can see that he’s trembling a little bit, but otherwise he’s standing on his own now. God, I’d even forgotten how tall he was…

But even though he seems alright, despite being tired, I can’t resist my arm going around his waist protectively.

“Can you walk all the way there?”

“Of course, who do you think I am?” he snaps.

“Hmmm. The idiot who went and got himself killed and was dead for the past five days maybe?”

“Well, I’m doing good now, am I?”

“You’re a freaking mystery is what you are.”

“I know you think I’m awesome actually. You just won’t admit it.”

“I do admit it. You _are_ awesome.”

Gaius grins amusedly as we get past him. Merlin walks slowly and I support him best I can.

“Eeerr,” he blurts as we walk out in the corridor. “Am I really alive now? Is this some kind of heaven?”

“What do you mean?” I chuckle.

“Arthur _Prat_ dragon actually says I’m awesome.”

I laugh.

“Insulting the king is treason, Merlin.”

“I don’t care. I’m immortal.”

I can’t help myself again: I literally explode with laughter.

There’s no doubt that Merlin is back to being himself. Nothing ever felt better than that.

We walk in silence for a good part of the trip, until Merlin stops and sways a little on his feet. Automatically, I tighten my grip on his body.

“You okay?”

“It’s fine… I’m a bit tired. But we’re almost there, aren’t we?”

“Here.”

I don’t give him any time to react — because I know he’ll protest — and I lean down to grab his legs. One of his arm instinctively goes around my shoulders and I lift him up when I’m steady on my feet. He doesn’t weigh too much and I start walking. We’re indeed almost there.

“Arthur…” Merlin sighs.

“Yes Merlin.”

“You’re a prat.”

“I think I’m beginning to catch that.”

“You don’t need to tire yourself out in taking care of me like that. I just needed a little break but I would’ve been fine to walk the rest of the way.”

“Well, why wait? I can take you.”

“You’re such an impatient little dollop-head.”

“Stop it Merlin, I know you love it when I carry you around in my big muscled arms.”

“S’not just your arms that’s big.”

“Haha!”

When we reach my chambers, I ask the guards there to open the doors for me, and I almost feel disappointed that we’re there. Merlin is hanging at my neck, his arms passed around me. I’d stay like this forever if I was to decide. But he’s almost falling asleep so I gently put him on the bed.

“Thanks,” he mutters.

“No problem, love.”

I get the blankets over his body and lean down to kiss his forehead.

“I’m not a child, you know.”

I stop.

“What do you mean by that?”

The blue of his eyes is so intense… so suddenly full of desire that I feel my heart accelerate.

“It’s not a kiss on the forehead that I want…”

A small smile slowly moves my lips. I lower my head and says in a soft murmur:

“You need to sleep, Merlin.”

“I need you to kiss me. You have to stop seeing me dead, Arthur. I’m very much alive. And unless you’re still mad at me for… for lying… I… I need _you_ more than I need rest.”

My heart beats faster by the second. I’m already on top of him on the bed, but after a while I don’t feel like I can resist anymore. How can I? After five days of looking at his dead body, he’s here, spread out on the bed, cheeks a little red, eyes glimmering from need and desire, mouth full and pink. My own body feels suddenly more alive too.

“Merlin… I’m not mad at you.”

He takes my words but don’t reply, just stares at me. A long moment goes away in silence. I don’t care about the time now. It can pour out whatever the way it wants. Fast, slow. I don’t care. I really don’t. All I care about lays there on the bed beneath me.

I stretch my hand and put it gently on the side of his head.

“I know we parted in bad terms. We were angry. I shouted, I said things I now dearly regret, but… but it’s fine now. I’m sorry. You’re not like Morgana, nor Agravain, you’ll never be. I love you. I love you so much, Merlin.”

“I love you more,” Merlin breathes without even thinking.

“And I can’t stop thinking… how heavy a burden it is for you to know that you’ll never… well, you’ll never… _die_.”

When he doesn’t answer and just looks at me, I keep talking.

“How are you feeling about that?” My voice is barely a whisper.

I can see him swallow, his throat moving slightly. He blinks, his eyelashes dark against the white of his skin. It’s funny how you notice all the stupid things about someone’s body when you believed them to be dead. When you thought you’d never see all these little twitches that they do. I could sit here and listen to Merlin’s _breathing_ for all eternity if I could…

“Arthur. All it means to me being immortal is that I’ll always be around to protect you. It’s all that matters to me.”

“At least now I won’t have to worry about your stupid ass sacrificing yourself for me.”

My last words make him smile and he continues to stare at me as if he’s never seen me before.

“Seriously, Merlin. You don’t know how… how it was. The world stopped completely. Everything seemed lost, and hopeless. I felt like the end.”

“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating?”

“Not even one bit,” I say. “You’re underestimating my feelings for you. I can’t be here without you Merlin. I can’t be the person I am without you around. You made me king, and if it weren’t for you, I would be dead by now, several times over. How am I supposed to know what to do if you’re gone?”

“Well I guess that’s a good thing I’m not gone, is it?” Merlin says while his hands come circling my face. He’s so warm now…

“Arthur. I will never leave you, I promise you that.”

“Wait until I find those who hurt you…”

He presses his lips together as if he disapproves. “It’s not going to solve anything.”

“I know. But they’ll have to answer to their King. Even if you’re alright, Merlin, they still murdered you. It doesn’t change what they did. For a few days you _were_ dead so they did kill you.”

“Well, you’ll have to forget about that, because I don’t remember.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“ _Merlin_.”

“I just remember the red cloaks. I can’t picture their faces. It’s true, Arthur. I _was_ dead. It’s like it’s been a century for me. I’m not lying, I swear to you.”

“Red cloaks,” I repeat through my teeth. “So they _were_ knights.”

“Yes. They were knights,” he nods softly.

I knew it. I knew it were knights that did this to him. Who else could’ve known about his magic? Merlin’s magic had just been revealed and I know that this secret angered some of Camelot’s knights, for some of them saw him as a traitor. Some of them saw Merlin as a threat, because of Morgana’s actions, because of sorcery.

And I was angry too. But I think I’ve always known deep inside that magic has never been as evil as my father always said it was. Because Merlin is not evil. And Merlin is made almost entirely of magic.

It’s not sorcery that’s evil. It’s the soul of the men who attacked Merlin for being something he never asked to be. Evil is in the heart of the men who meant to kill him because he had kept his magic a secret not because he wanted to plot against Camelot, but because he wanted to protect me.

And I’m not mad at him. I was angry because he lied to me, but not because of the magic. I was disappointed in him for not trusting me with this heavy secret, this life-changing secret. I wish he would have felt like he could trust me. And now that I think about it, I realize how hard it must have been, how very dangerous for him if he had said anything under my father’s reign. Since I became King, it hadn’t been any better for Camelot had been attacked more than once by evil sorcerers, one of them being my own sister.

So no. I believe sorcerers are _not_ all the same.

There aren’t all evil, and they surely aren’t more evil than normal people can be.

“I’ll hurt them, Merlin. I will.”

“You just have to banish them, make them disappear, and it’ll be enough.”

I feel so much rage, just imagining what the hell they’ve done to Merlin. I remember all the blood. I remember his broken body. His _dead_ body. If it weren’t for the damn magic, Merlin would not be here with me… he would be six feet underground… so far in the dirt and all that would remain would be ashes.

The bastards are lucky that Merlin doesn’t have vengeful soul!

“And it’s true that I don’t remember their faces,” Merlin says in a low voice. “They… attacked me from behind.”

“So much for being _noble_ knights! They don’t deserve any privilege, any credit whatsoever. I’ll find them Merlin. I swear to God I’ll figure out who did this to you and they’ll disappear from the map forever.”

Merlin doesn’t say anything. I can see his eyelids flutter, as if he’s forcing himself awake. I let out a soft sigh.

“Don’t fall asleep on me Merlin. Didn’t you say you wanted a kiss?”

A little spark lit up in his eyes and he smiles fully. I smile too and lean towards his face.

His hand slide along my face until it settles on my neck and finally, _finally_ , our lips meet. I automatically close my eyes, not believing what is happening. Only a few hours ago I was dressing him for his burial, lost in the world of pain, drowned in my own sorrow. And here I am, kissing him, feeling the breaths he takes as he moves his lips with mine. My hands go on both sides of his body on the bed as to support my weigh and Merlin pulls my head even closer to his and the kiss deepens. We’re both eager to get more of the other. To get more than one kiss. More than one touch.

_So much more… I want you wholly._

Merlin moans softly when I pull away.

“Happy now?” I whisper.

“Very.”

He’s out of breath, tired, barely back to life with full strength, and I kissed the air out of him, but he manages another smile. A heartwarming smile. I kiss his cheek fondly.

“Come now, you need to sleep.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“There’s nowhere else I need to be.”

“Then try to get some sleep yourself. I know you’re the king but you look like shit, Arthur. You have dark circles under your eyes and you’re quite pale… You’re exhausted. Sleep with me. Please.”

With slow movements, Merlin force me to lie beside him. And as he manhandles me under the blankets despite being so tired himself, I realize how exhausted, indeed, I am. I wonder how it’s possible that I didn’t collapse yet. I lie down and look at Merlin for a very long time. My heart still beats fast and painfully. Merlin gets closer to my body and soon we’re all tangled. I wrap my arm around him as he turns to stick his back on my chest. Our fingers find each other.

And suddenly, as the sleep slowly begins to overcome me, I’m afraid.

When was the last time I slept? I don’t think I did ever since I found out about Merlin being dead. How long has it been since I came back from my trip to Queen Annis’ land?

Minutes go by and my breath become erratic as I begin to imagine it all being a dream. What if I wake up and Merlin is still on my bed, dead and prepared to be buried? No… I’m just tired. Merlin is real. He’s here inside my arms, he’s tangible, concrete, he’s not an illusion.

_Sleep, Arthur. You need to sleep._

“What’s wrong?” comes a soft voice after a while.

“I… nothing,” I say in a murmur and realize I’m crying.

Merlin being Merlin doesn’t take no for an answer. He turns in my arms and soon his eyes are on the same level as mine.

“What’s wrong, Arthur?”

I let a finger run over his cheek in a sweet caress.

“It’s just… it’s silly.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m scared that you’ll… disappear while I’m asleep.”

“Won’t happen,” Merlin says sure of himself.

“What if… all of this is just a dream after all? A man can’t be above death… It’s… it cannot be… What if I’ve been having hallucinations until now?”

“You need rest. You don’t make any sense.”

His voice is so sweet. So deep and soft.

What if I never hear it again?

Merlin puts his head on the pillow right besides mine, and kisses my lips so delicately like I’m some sort of diamond he’s afraid to break. He feels like a ghost on my mouth, looks like an angel watching over me… That’s everything Merlin has ever done. _Oh Merlin, please don’t ever go away…_

“When you wake I’ll be here like I always am. Where I belong.”

I only have the strength left to move my face closer to kiss him.

After that, it’s a complete blackout.

***

Arthur couldn’t, for the life of him, remember when was the last time he slept like that. It was like he too had been dead for a week. When he opened his eyes, it felt like a month had passed. He slowly lifted his head up and looked around.

It was morning. Soft rays of sunlight could be seen from under the curtains, sparkling on the floor. Arthur smiled a little, a wave of comfort and well-being invading him. For how long was he asleep? he wondered as he sat up on the bed, stretching his arms. Then, in a moment of brief panic, he turned around and his eyes landed on Merlin’s unmoving form. He relaxed as he took sight of him and knew the boy was sleeping. He was curled on his side, arms stretched out in front of him on the mattress, his face buried in the pillow and his shoulders were slowly moving from his breathing.

Arthur sighed in deep relief and leaned to plant a kiss in the crook of his neck. The skin there was warm, deliciously warm and Arthur inhaled the smell coming from the body he loved so much. Merlin barely twitched in his sleep, making Arthur smile.

So that was not a dream.

He didn’t know for a long he was asleep but Arthur soon realized it must have been hours when his stomach started to make embarrassing sounds. He stood up and walked quietly to the doors, looking back a few times with a smile, not quite believing that Merlin was really okay. That he was more than okay, actually.

He opened the doors and called for the guards. Two of them quickly appeared from the corner of the corridor.

“Send for a servant, please. I want a generous breakfast for two.”

The guards abdicated without a word and were soon gone. Arthur closed the doors and came back to bed as Merlin was starting to wake.

He climbed onto the mattress, excited like a little child. He was so happy. How could he have gone through the worst and the best in such a short lapse of time? There was no doubt his body was so tired…

Merlin rolled onto his back and opened sleepy and glassy eyes. Arthur only smiled at him.

“Hey.”

The dark haired man smiled back when he caught sight of his king.

“See. Told you I’d be here,” he said in a quiet voice.

Arthur snuggled closer, getting an arm around his waist. “So am I,” he whispered. Merlin responded in putting his hot palm onto Arthur’s forearm. He gently rubbed the soft skin.

“I ordered a big breakfast. Are you up to it?”

“That sounds so good right now, I’m so hungry.”

“You better be,” Arthur chuckled. “When was the last time you ate something?”

“Probably… the day we… Uh. No. I don’t remember.”

“You don’t have anything in there,” Arthur said, his hand tenderly and lovingly patting Merlin’s flat belly in a gentle caress. “You get beaten and stabbed. You die for about five days. You come back to life. You manage to somehow sing me to sleep. And you’re still in a good mood. What are you Merlin? Are you even human?”

“I’m the king’s manservant. That’s one hell of a job. Gotta stay fit.”

“You’re not my servant anymore.”

“You’re sacking me?”

“I am. You’ll be more than a servant. I’ll give you a title and everything that comes with it.”

“Arthur, you can’t…”

“I’m the King of Camelot, I can do whatever I want.”

“I don’t want to be a knight.”

“You’re not going to be a knight, for the love of God, Merlin, you can’t hold a sword without hurting yourself.”

“What am I going to be then?”

“First I’ll make sure that everybody knows that you’re my lover. I’ll make sure everybody knows that hurting you will have them prosecuted. And then, maybe I’ll make you… Court Sorcerer or something like that.”

Merlin seemed to think for a moment, looking straight into his king’s eyes, while rubbing his arm with his thumb unconsciously.

“Arthur, for a city to have a Court Sorcerer, sorcery must be allowed, you know that?”

“I do. I’ll fix it.”

The silence that followed was so unlike Merlin that Arthur remembered the painful way he had missed Merlin’s never ending chatter when he was laying there dead. He had wished for nothing more than for the young man to wake up and babble about whatever it was he was always babbling about. Now, Merlin was silent, but he was so beautiful, so alive with the bright light that Arthur’s words had just made appear in the amazing blue eyes. Merlin was staring at him, mouth wide opened, eyes looking straight at him in disbelief.

“What?” he managed to say a while later.

“You heard me, Merlin. I’ll lift the ban on magic.”

“W…why?” he said again, his voice so small he sounded vulnerable.

“Because of everything you did for me, for Camelot, for this whole kingdom. All the things you did with your magic, with your sense of duty, with your lack of self preservation, your lack of _selfishness_ , your courage. Everything you’ve done… You deserve so much more than I’ll ever be able to give you. So it’s the least I can do.”

“But I thought you thought sorcerers were evil…”

“That’s what my father believed.”

“And I don’t need any recognition Arthur. That’s not why I protect your or help you…”

“I know, but I want you to feel… better. I want you to live in a world where your kind is treated like everybody else. I don’t want Camelot to be a place where there is such a thing as _races_. People of different kind. People should all be the same. They should all be equal. Sorcery or not. We’re all humans after all.”

“I’m not a hundred percent sure I’m completely human, after all…”

“You are to me.”

“You’ll really do it? You… you would allow magic back in the kingdom? What if people don’t approve? What if you make more enemies? What if the _knights_ don’t approve? Wha…”

“Merlin, you’ve seen how the knights greeted you when you woke up. They all love you. And those who shall not approve will be more than welcomed to leave. I’m not forcing anyone into anything, but I believe that it will be a step further to the world I’ve always dreamed of. Uniting a land is uniting people. No one should be put aside. Some sorcerers might be evil, but so are ordinary men. And it’s thanks to you, Merlin, that I can finally understand that. The wrong is in people’s heart, no in their tools and choice of weapon. You are the living proof, Merlin. You’re a creature of magic and you’re, like, zero percent evil.”

Again, Merlin was left wordless. Arthur laughed nervously.

“I did some bad things, Arthur. I’m not an angel.”

“As we all do, when we live in a dangerous world. We all have our dark sides, and things we regret… or not,” Arthur added. “I’m not going to ask you about _everything_. And you don’t have to tell me either.”

Merlin was trying to keep himself composed, but Arthur could see how emotional he was now. He was moved to tears by his words, and Arthur thought he understood what it might have been for Merlin, all these years. Not only did he save his life more time than anyone could ever begin to know, he had to live in secret. He had to hide who he really was. Since they became lovers and way longer before, Arthur had always felt like he could tell Merlin everything about him, about his life, his father, his future as king of Camelot, his feelings. Merlin was his best friend, his favorite person in the world, and then their friendship flourished into love and they literally shared everything.

But Merlin could’ve never confide in Arthur the way Arthur had. And the king thought now that he could finally understand how lonely it must have been for the young warlock. He could never talk to him about who he really was. And after having nearly lost him — well, after he actually lost him for almost a week — Arthur wanted nothing more than to know him. To know him better. To know him completely.

So it was a relief for Merlin. It was something he was beginning to lose hope about…

“Arthur…”

“It’s alright Merlin. Don’t say anything.”

That was the moment that was chosen by the servants to knock on the doors. Arthur sighed, and then kiss Merlin’s forehead before he got up and walked to the doors. He opened it and took the plates from the young maid’s hands.

“Thank you,” he said and then sent her away.

He came back to the bed, where Merlin was slowly sitting up. When Arthur caught sight of him, he automatically called out for him.

“Be careful!”

“I’m fine,” Merlin said with a soft smile. He wiped a few tears away, and Arthur thought that Merlin had never looked this happy and promised himself to never stop trying to make him look like that. To never stop trying to plant a smile on his lovely face.  

Arthur put the breakfast on the table and turned around to smile at his beloved.

“Well, you just… came back. I don’t want you tiring yourself out. Take it easy. And you didn’t eat anything in a week. You must be feeling weak.”

“I said I was fine,” Merlin repeated in a warm and soft voice. “Can we eat now? I _am_ feeling weak!”

“Who’s impatient now?” Arthur smiled.

“Prat.”

Arthur laughed, happily, before he took the plates again and walked to the bed. Merlin was too weak to stand and come eat at the table. He climbed on the soft mattress and put their breakfast in the middle. Merlin smiled widely.

“Looks tasty!”

“Wait,” Arthur said putting his hand on Merlin’s. “Before we get started…”

The dark haired man stared in the king’s eyes. Arthur waited a short while. He looked down for a moment, like what he had to say was hard.

“Merlin, I just wanted to say… I’m sorry.”

The younger man opened his mouth to protest but Arthur interrupted him.

“No, let me finish, please.”

Arthur breathed deeply.

“I’m sorry about what happened. If I hadn’t been so… blinded by my father’s own way of seeing things, by my father’s words, by his hatred for sorcerers that he passed onto me, I wouldn’t have been so stuck up about it. You would’ve found it easier to tell me, to tell me way before, to trust me. And we wouldn’t have had to come up to this… this situation. I’m also sorry I left instead of staying and talking to you, because we really needed to. I shouldn’t have. And even if you keep telling me it’s not my fault about what happened to you, it _is_ … in a way.”

Merlin didn’t say anything at first. Then, he smiled, leaned closer to Arthur. He took his king’s hands and held them.

“Well I’m here now. All of this is in the past. I don’t blame you for anything. In fact, _I_ am sorry for lying. But let’s not think about it, alright?”

“Yeah,” Arthur whispered. “How come you’ve been hurt so badly… _died_ … and still, you’re the one who comforts me? Have I ever told you how much of a wonder you really are?”

“Hmm. You always complain about how I am a buffoon. An idiot. A clotpole. Uh, no, that one’s my word… But no, no, never a wonder. I don’t think so.”

Arthur laughed out loud.

“Can I see it?”

“Can you see what?” Merlin repeated, dumbfounded.

“Your magic. Can I see it?”

Merlin had grabbed a little purple grape and was putting it in his mouth when he stopped his motions. He looked at Arthur, slowly chewing the juicy fruit.

“My magi…c…,” he said, confused. “You sure?”

“I need to see for myself. What you’re made of. Please, Merlin. No more secrets between us. Please show me, if you will.”

Merlin swallowed hardly. Then he looked at Arthur for a few seconds before he nodded, again, in a slow movement. He seemed unsure, but Arthur was confident. He wanted to see it. He wanted to see the energy, the _power_ that had returned Merlin to him. 

Merlin lowered his head over his hands, reunited over his mouth. He breathed deeply before he muttered a few words in an unknown language. The Old Religion, Arthur said to himself. He’d heard it before… but in Merlin’s mouth, it sounded exotic, mystical and beautiful instead of foreign, wrong and dangerous.

Then the gold irises shone. He wasn’t sure how much he was aware of Merlin’s power, but right now, the young man looked quite powerful indeed.

He didn’t know exactly what he was expecting to see. A dragon made of flames? Objects jumping around in the room like the moment woke from the dead? He really didn’t know.

What he did know was that he didn’t expect to see these bewitching, glittering butterflies fleeing from Merlin’s palms. The little creatures were the same sparkling color than Merlin’s eyes. Merlin then did something to shut the curtains so the room fell into blissful darkness, and the butterflies lit up the space with an enchanting glow. It was magical. It was unreal. It was more beautiful than anything, _anything_ Arthur had ever seen in his entire life.

How could his father see nothing but pure evil? It didn’t make any sense. What wrong would these butterflies — _butterflies_ , for silly’s sake! — ever do? Arthur did recognize Merlin’s pure and sweet personality in that. And he smiled, heart feeling warm and peaceful.

Merlin was looking at him through the darkness. The butterflies looked like they were leaving trails, millions of small particles of golden dust behind them into thin air. Arthur was utterly, deeply, passionately and irrevocably in love.

“Sometimes I do things, you know, random things when I’m bored.” Merlin explained after a while. “But I’ve always had to be careful, all the time, like it was some crime, like it was something wrong to do. Gaius would always repeat to me to hide it at any cost. But it hurts to not use it for a long time. I _need_ to use it. It’s not just magic that I learned, it’s who I am. It’s inside me, it needs to live and breathe, just like I do.”

“I know now.”

Arthur was at a loss for words. Honestly. He felt so boring now. So ordinary. So small.

“Merlin.”

Merlin was smiling at his piece of art, watching the creatures make their way around the room, around them. He was happy to finally be himself.

“Yeah?”

“Promise me one thing.”

He turned to look at his king, hearing the serious tone in his voice.

“You know I’d do anything for you Arthur.”

It almost felt like eternity again when Arthur finally spoke.

“Don’t stop doing magic. Don’t you _ever_ stop.”

Merlin’s eyes slowly filled with tears again. One of them rolled down his cheek and Arthur understood that if he ever stopped doing magic, it would be like the sun stopped rising every morning.

Next thing Arthur knew, his sorcerer’s arms were locked tight around his neck, Merlin’s body against his own, and nothing felt better. Arthur automatically wrapped his arms around him and held him close, burying his face into dark hair, smelling his scent and losing himself in paradise.

To hell with anyone who’d stand between them. To hell with anyone who’d disapprove his ways.

His hand clutched at Merlin’s shirt and he heard an “I love you” being whispered. He didn’t know if it was him or Merlin but it didn’t matter.

 


End file.
